James was cleaning the kitchen when he heard the front door open, followed by heavy steps and the sound of somebody falling on the couch. He put his rag away and peeked into the den.

Just as he'd suspected, Qrow was lying face down on the couch, his weapon laying on the floor after falling over from his lazy attempt at propping it against the wall. The man let out a soft groan, and James chuckled, "Rough day?"

Qrow responded with another groan, raising his hand to his head. James walked over to the couch and laid his hand on his back, "You alright?"

Qrow shook his head.

"Did you get hurt on your mission?" James asked, his eyes flicking around for any wounds hidden under his clothes. Qrow simply lifted an arm and pointed to his temple.

"Hit your head?" James asked, and Qrow nodded again. "You need some ice?"

Qrow shook his head again, then finally turned it so his face was visible. He looked beyond exhausted as he looked up at James pitifully.

"Every muscle in my body is dying, but my head really feels the worst." He grumbled, blinking slowly. James huffed and left the room, heading upstairs.

Great, he asks what's wrong, then leaves me to die. Qrow thought, burying his face in the couch cushions again. He lifted his head when he felt something being draped over him.
James had come back downstairs with his favorite heavy blanket, then he went into the kitchen. Qrow heard him rummage through the cabinets and turn on the faucet. He returned with a glass of water and two blue pills.

"Take these." He told him, "They'll help."

The last thing Qrow wanted to do was sit up, but he was in no mood to argue. He sat up, quickly took the pills, then started to lay back down before James caught him. Qrow gave him a feeble scowl, and James said, "You can lay down in a second."

The man then proceeded to take a seat where Qrow's head had been, then patted his lap. He earned a quizzical look from the corvid, but then he just sighed and laid his head in his lap. He didn't protest when James started to gently stroke his hair, silently savoring the delicate touch.

"Sorry you had a rough day." James said, his voice soft, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Mmm, you're fine." Qrow mumbled, his eyelids already growing dangerously heavy. He struggled to keep them open, focusing on a painting in the corner of the room in an attempt to distract himself.

"You're tense." James mentioned.

Qrow chuckled, "How observant of you, Jimmy."

"Qrow, you've done nothing but work all day. In fact, I think you've been at this all week." James said, "When's the last time you slept?"

"Depends." Qrow shrugged, "Are you asking about sleeping in general, or sleeping decently?"

"Well, that answers my question." James sighed, shaking his head. For someone who always acted so laid back, Qrow could be quite the workaholic (Sort of like me, I suppose, James found himself thinking). However, the amount of work Qrow would put in his missions tended to be too much for him, and the man would come back home miserable. James hated seeing him in such a state. He continued to run his fingers through his feathery hair, despite how greasy it was. He didn't care; Qrow seemed to be enjoying it.

Meanwhile, the dark haired man could feel himself slipping. The medicine James gave him was starting to take effect, easing the pain in his muscles, leaving the only sensation in his body to be exhaustion. One part of him wanted to just drift off, but another part wanted him to stay awake, despite having nothing left to do. Perhaps it was instinct, but whatever it was, it was driving the bus, and Qrow still refused to fall asleep.

"Well, if you're not going to rest," James said, already catching on to Qrow's stubbornness, "then you might as well tell me about your mission."

Qrow grunted disapprovingly.

"I'm gonna take that as a no." James said.

"You're a jackass…" Qrow grumbled, earning a chuckle from James. The sound was deep and gentle, and Qrow's chest swelled. But then he felt a surge of anxiety pass over him, an instinctive command from days and nights of having to deal with Grimm. You can't relax, stay alert, it's not safe, grab your weapon.

James, sensing the man's discomfort, placed a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him onto his back to look him in the eyes, "What's wrong?"

Qrow opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a convincing argument. He didn't know how to word his inner struggle, and he suddenly felt a striking pain in his head. He gasped sharply, putting a hand to his forehead.

James gently pressed his fingers against Qrow's scalp, "Relax. If you keep stressing yourself, your headache is going to get worse."

James gently massaged the man's head with one hand, and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders with the other. Qrow could only mumble, "I have to…"

James shook his head, "The only thing you should be doing now is resting. Please, Qrow."

At the sound of the man's plea, Qrow met his sapphire eyes. They were soft and kind, and Qrow felt a sense of security wash over him. Maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt…

No, danger, stay awake, stay alert, survive-

Qrow growled in frustration, opening his eyes so he could look up at James, silently seeking comfort. James seemed to understand, taking his hand from under the blanket, "Shh, it's alright. You're safe now, Qrow. I'm here."

Qrow leaned into his touch, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes again.

Just a few moments later, James noticed Qrow's body relax, his breathing becoming deeper as his lips parted slightly. He gently removed his hand from the other man's hair, and when he didn't move to protest, James knew that he was fast asleep. Still, though, he found himself stroking his hair again, feeling his chest rise and fall slowly through their entwined hands.

Do people always look younger when they're sleeping? James wondered. Seeing the huntsman in such a tranquil state was rare, even for him. The wrinkles that had formed from stress and lack of sleep seemed to fade away. His eyebrows sat naturally on his forehead; not furrowed from exhaustion or extreme focus. His bangs slowly fell in front of his face, and James gently pushed them back. Qrow had nice eyelashes, he realized.

Then he exhaled sharply, a quiet sound rumbling from his throat as his eyelids twitched. James took this as a sign to rouse the man just long enough for him to take him to bed; the couch was getting uncomfortable.

"Qrow." James whispered, "Come on, let's go to bed."

Qrow, who was now seeming to slip in and out of consciousness, merely mumbled a reply before begrudgingly sitting up and allowing James to stand. The General then took his hand and lead him to the bedroom, where he then insisted Qrow at least take off his shoes before succumbing to sleep again. Once he did, the huntsman gravitated into the bed, welcoming sleep with open arms. James joined him soon after changing into his pajama shorts. He let Qrow snuggle up to him as the man drifted off to sleep again, and he gave the other man a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Good night, love."